Category Archives: Family Values

Chapter 11. Sunlight, nature’s best disinfectant was clearing out the last few doppler shadows…

Sun­light, as nature’s best dis­in­fec­tant, was clear­ing out the last few doppler shad­ows bridg­ing the bel­li­cose scen­esters and hair­spray gob­lins already on the lurk for the lapsed chances offered to the quick and the dead first and then to the able and the eager still catch­ing up on some great escape plan as they race […]

Chapter 8. When my firstborn left home, trimming the mouths to feed

When my first­born left home, trim­ming the mouths I had to feed from eight to sev­en, I cut back from four cups of rice to two. We ate rice near­ly every night for years. Some­times with beans, some­times with a scram­bled meat dish. Lots of casseroles, too. Times were hard. Hel­lo. My name is Peg­gy. I have known many, […]

Chapter 6. Three nights before John Lennon was shot dead in front…

Three nights before John Lennon was shot dead in front of the Dako­ta, and all the fret world mourned el bar­rio del cor­pus christi was rel­a­tive­ly qui­et to the most casu­al observ­er, of whom I was one, bel­ly up to a sat­is­fied mind after a quick hand­ful of tacos lengua and a wet bur­ri­to at Crack­ling Rosie’s had end­ed […]

Chapter 5. It was a story told by my mother to Paul that grabbed…

It was a sto­ry told by my moth­er to Paul over tea and cook­ies and I believe some inel­e­gant cheese that grabbed me by the Saskatchewans, pitch­ing me into a fever dossier and a full count I am prob­a­bly still suf­fer­ing con­sec­u­tive­ly this very day, near­ly sev­er­al thou­sand dawns of Cool­ing Earth lat­er. Why had she nev­er men­tioned this before. […]

Chapter 4. Our dear Mrs. Middleton the Strict sent us home with a regenerative task…

Our dear Mrs. Mid­dle­ton the Strict sent us home with a regen­er­a­tive task one fine spring after­noon, crisp with the trav­el­ing song of way­ward dan­de­lions and invin­ci­ble coun­try singers drunk on the booze left unde­liv­ered by the winds of tomorrow’s next sur­prise. Her thir­ty stu­dents were to ask each of our par­ents, and in those days, […]